His Flower (Rewritten)

Chapter 24

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Chapter 24

       I sipped slowly at my milkshake, trying desperately to get the ice-cream goodness up the straw. I kept my gaze pointed down at the fake-wooden tabletop but tried to discretely raise my eyes enough to watch Rex fidget with his own straw.

       "Where are the others?" I tried to keep my voice low as it interrupted the completely dead silence between us, though it did little to ease the awkward tension.

       "Echo, we usually always go there after a fight..." His voice trailed off, those dark eyes refusing to meet mine as I let my gaze rise completely towards his handsome face. It went silent again, but I couldn't tear my gaze from him, even though his refused to stay longer on me for more than a few seconds.

       I sipped quietly at the milkshake until he finally grunted and pushed his aside. "Stop giving me that look." Rex grumbled a tense moment later. Those dark, chestnut eyes I loved so much finally meeting mine.

       "You shouldn't do those fights."

       "It's my job."

       "It's dangerous."

       The corner of his lips twitched at that, and the awkward tension surrounding us faded a little—but just a little. "It's good money, great money, and I'm good at it."

       "You're good at a lot of stuff, Rex." I murmured softly and forced my gaze back to the table between us. I know I didn't have a right telling him what he could and couldn't do, but that place alone was a dangerous disaster, I didn't even want to think about how much worse the guys he had to fight were.

       "Not like I am with fighting."

       I let out a small sigh and sat back in the booth until I was slouching far into the seat. "You can do other stuff to make money besides illegal fighting. Like-like body-guarding, or being bouncer, or something..." I grumbled lowly so the passing waiter couldn't hear.

       We were practically the only two people in the late-night little ice-cream shop just past the Maine/New Hampshire border, but that didn't mean I wanted the staff to hear our conversation. I doubted Rex did either.

       He let out a disgruntled sigh and rubbed that large hand of his through his dark tousled hair like always. Those chestnut eyes looked more tired than anything, and I was honestly starting to feel bad about giving him a hard time—but this was his life we were talking about now and I never wanted to see him hurt, ever.

       "It's not just the money, Roza." He admitted softly, those dark, tired eyes watching my fingers play with my forgotten straw. "This anger inside me... it never goes away, no matter how hard I try to shove it down." His voice was so soft it tore at my heart, and the fact that that was probably the most he's ever shared kept my lips glued shut.

       "I can ignore it for a while, but eventually it builds up to a point where I get explosive, and I just—this is the only way I can get it all out. Then I'm fine for a while longer until it starts to build up again."

       I didn't know what to say when he finished, or if I was supposed to say anything at all. So I just sat there silently as he took his sweet time raising those gorgeous eyes up to mine. It was another quiet moment later before one of those large, warm hands I loved so much reached slowly across the table until it could rest on mine.